Lessons
by Trish47
Summary: Annie's latest assignment requires her to act the part of dominatrix. Problem is, she's not quite sure what to do. Auggie helps her brush up on her skills. Humor. Strong T for suggestive material. Two-shot. A-Squared. Enjoy and Review!
1. Annie's POV

**A/N: I feel like I've been gone forever. Life has been crazy lately. But you don't care about that. So, I was temporarily under the control of my Naughty Muse and she made me post this. I think she might have gotten a _little _carried away. . .Enjoy!  
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**Thanks Phoenix!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Covert Affairs or its characters. Only my wicked ideas. ;)  
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**Warning: What to rate this really put me in a conundrum, because while "adult themes" are present, they aren't **_**exactly**_** acted out. So, it's T but with a strong qualifier. If too many people are offended, I'll bump up the rating.

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**Lessons**

Annie makes her way to Auggie's office with a little less pep in her step than usual. Her mind is preoccupied with the upcoming mission Joan just tasked her to do.

"_You'll need to get the computer chip within five feet of Berkin's laptop and keep it there until Auggie can hack in and download the intel."_

"_When do I leave?"_

"_Go see Auggie now. He'll outfit you with the necessary tech."_

"_All right."_

"_Annie? One more note."_

"_Yeah?"_

"_Berkin likes his hired companions to be aggressive, dominant. Think you can handle it?"_

"_No problem."_

But there is a problem, because Annie's never been overly forceful or commanding with any of her previous partners. She's always been confident about her sexual talents—at least she's never gotten any complaints—but S&M is not her usual style. She's not as "vanilla" as her sister sometimes teases her of being, but Annie still considers herself a shade of cream compared to others.

Just the thought of having to act the part of dominatrix puts her on edge. That she'll be performing said act for a mark adds a dollop of nervousness to the mix. And the cherry on top is knowing that her coworkers - possibly even her boss - are going to be listening in on and monitoring the whole encounter. Anxiety bubbles in her stomach as she makes her way down the hallway.

She may be trained to take on different personas to get the job done, but this is more than a little out of her comfort zone. What if she botches the mission because she can't portray her alias convincingly? What if she can't be badass enough to pull this op off?

Reaching Auggie's office, Annie comes to an abrupt stop when she sees the leather bustier on a wire mannequin. The black outfit looks tight, uncomfortable, and like it's not going to cover nearly enough skin. Shiny red laces snake in and out of links down the middle of the bodice in an X pattern, but don't quite bring the two sides of the garment together. "Risque" doesn't begin to describe the outfit.

"I'm supposed to wear _that_?" Annie asks, incredulous. Maybe if she wasn't going to be wearing this in front of a complete stranger she wouldn't mind the sexy number, but few people have seen her in so little clothing, and even fewer have seen her in something so. . .scandalous. She wonders if Auggie knows just how revealing the outfit is, but quickly decides she doesn't want to know.

Auggie spins his chair to face her. "It was all we could find on such short notice. If you have your own mic-equipped, leather corset at home, I'm sure you could pick it up on your way to the hotel."

She dodges his underlying inquiry about the kind of lingerie she owns by asking, "Mic-equipped you say?"

Auggie stands and approaches the wire mannequin. He reaches out, exploring the garment until he finds the links down the middle of the corset. Then he drags his finger up the laces until he gets to the top-right link. Annie's eyes track his movements, one of the anxious bubbles in her stomach bursting into a warm tickle.

"This link is a tiny, short wave microphone," he explains. "I'll be able to hear everything."

Annie barely contains an unprofessional groan. That's what she was afraid of. Instead, she makes a sound of acknowledgment, then turns her attention to the other items lining his workspace. Annie blushes when she sees the other "tech" that's at her disposal. At least the handcuffs and blindfold are familiar, but she's not as versed in using a riding crop and the other items laid out before her.

"Joan said this op didn't have to become too _involved_," Annie says, emphasizing the last word. "This seems involved to me."

"Don't worry. Once you get the microchip—which I'm putting in your cell phone now—near the computer, it should only take me a few minutes to download the information."

He snaps the cover of her mission-issued cell phone shut, and hands it over, adding, "These toys are mostly for show."

"Riiight," Annie says, fingering what she believes to be a ball-gag and cringing slightly. She can't hide the uneasiness in her voice.

"What is it?" he asks.

"Nothing."

"You sound worried."

Annie sighs. She can never conceal anything from him; he's really the most perceptive man she's ever met.

"Berkin's into S&M," she states flatly.

"Yeah, so?"

"Just. . .yeah," Annie echoes.

He seems to sense the root of her distress. "It's just a little acting, Annie. Don't psych yourself out. You'll be fine."

"It's more than a little acting, Aug. What if this Berkin makes me for a fake? What if he realizes I'm not an experienced Dom?"

She knows she's overreacting and that—as a trained agent—she should have more control over her emotions and over her anxiety. As a woman comfortable with her sexuality, she shouldn't be intimidated by what some consider experimentation. That doesn't change the fact that the situation makes her completely uncomfortable.

Thankfully, Auggie doesn't tease her or tell her to "man up." He doesn't treat her like the inexperienced agent that she is and Annie appreciates that more than anything.

"Okay," Auggie says, crossing his arms. "Give me your best dominatrix voice."

"What?" she asks, her face suddenly burning. "No way."

"I never pegged you for being timid in the bedroom," he comments, one eyebrow raised in genuine curiosity.

"I'm not timid," she argues.

She can see him fight with a smile, but his voice remains serious. "If you can't do it with me, you won't be able to do it with Berkin."

"What kind of logic is that?"

"Annie," he says firmly.

"Fine." She caves and squares her shoulders, taking up the challenge. "Come here, uh, you worm."

Auggie's mouth drops open a little, but she doubts it's because he's blown away by her lack-luster performance. Saying something like that to Auggie—at least without any liquid encouragement—makes her feel super self-conscious. What's more nerve-wracking is that he's right. If she can't say the words in front of Auggie, how is she ever supposed to be comfortable enough to say them in front of Berkin?

She didn't realize just how terrible she'd be at this kind of role-play. How can she play the part of a hooker just fine, but can't manage a little trash talk and aggressive behavior? It shouldn't be that difficult.

"That's really all you've got?" he asks. "That was _not_ sexy."

"I feel silly saying it," she admits.

"Oh boy, have we got some work to do."

"I leave within the hour."

"All right, we need a little S&M 101," Auggie says, taking up his laser cane.

"And you're going to teach me?" Annie asks. "What makes you qualified?"

"Do you really wanna know the answer to that question?" he asks with a wolfish grin. "I'm not really a spank-and-tell kinda guy."

Annie's mind is instantly flooded with images and she bites her bottom lip to keep her groan from escaping. "Let's just do this."

He nods. "Follow me. Bring the crop."

Auggie turns, forcing Annie to grab the leather-tipped riding crop and follow him. She tries to hold it behind her back to stave off the curious looks of office dwellers, but she feels their eyes following her down the hallway.

Auggie leads her to a supply closet near the break room. Annie closes the door behind her, turning on the light for her benefit.

"Now we're away from distractions," he says, suddenly serious. "Don't be embarrassed. Don't hold back. Pretend that I'm Berkin and tell me what to do."

She hesitates because of his intensity, amazed at how he switches from lighthearted teasing to serious in the blink of an eye. Never in her life would Annie have predicted that signing up with the CIA would lead to a crash course on sadomasochism in a supply closet with her handler.

"Annie. . ."

"Sorry. Okay. . ..Come here and get on your knees."

He shakes his head. "Not working. Where's your oomph? Annie, you have to own it. Become the _femme fatale_. Find the character."

She exhales in frustration. "Auggie, this is never going to work. I feel like an idiot."

"Stop! I don't wanna hear you speak! Keep your mouth shut until I say otherwise! Understood?"

His sudden yelling startles her into silence, her eyes going wide. He's never shouted at her like that before.

At her silence, he smiles. "See what I did there?" he asks. "Oomph."

He sweeps his hand out in her direction, inviting her to try again based on his example.

Annie takes a moment to compile all the images and stereotypes she associates with S&M in her mind. She needs to get over her discomfort and do this right. She's running out of time to practice.

"I'm the one in charge here!" she yells back, finding her voice and just going for it. The volume of her voice surprises her, but she continues, "I make the rules and you will obey them!"

"Or what?" he challenges, his voice dropping a full octave lower than she's used to. The deep timbre of his voice is distracting and oddly arousing, but she tries to concentrate.

"Or I will have to teach you a lesson!" she threatens.

_Thwack!_ The riding crop in her hand suddenly connects with his upper arm.

"Ow," he mumbles, rubbing the point of contact.

"Sorry!"

"No, no," he dismisses with another grin. "It's better. Don't stop. Punish me."

She strikes him with the crop again, but not quite as hard. Annie thinks she likes the way the thin rod slices through the air with little resistance, making the motion almost effortless. Maybe this won't be so hard after all.

A hint of teasing disappointment creeps into her voice as she asks, "Didn't I tell you to get on your knees?" She moves closer to him in the small closet. "On. Your. Knees!"

This time she brings the tip of the crop down on the palm of her own hand, using the _crack_ to emphasize her words.

Auggie drops to the ground. She watches as his Adam's apple bobs with a harsh swallow. She hadn't really expected him to obey her.

_Now what?_ she thinks, an ounce of her former anxiety returning.

"Circle your prey," Auggie whispers as a hint. "Use what you have."

Annie does as he says, her heels clicking on the floor of the closet as she slides past him in the enclosed space. Her body rubs up against him, sending shocks all through her nervous system. She circles him twice, tapping him with the crop a few times. On her second round, she drags the tip of the crop across his chest and down the column of his back before bringing it back up to his neck.

Annie can feel herself slipping into the character, her fears and inhibitions abating. Auggie's impromptu lesson is really working. Or maybe that's just because it's Auggie. Maybe acting out something this intimate isn't as intimidating because of who she's doing it with. Even though she's never had fantasies involving a riding crop, she admits to having fantasies about her handler on more than a few occasions.

She pushes those thoughts from her mind and refocuses on the task at hand. Stopping behind him, she leans in and whispers, "Hands behind your back, Anderson."

Auggie obeys again, clasping his hands at the base of his spine. His breathing is heavy, but he's not trying to hide it. Annie wonders if it's just part of the act, but she's not so sure. She tugs on the ends of his hair until his head is tilted back and she can see his eyes. Lust clouds them. Annie's breath hitches in her throat at the sight of him.

She gazes at his slightly parted lips, her head unconsciously dipping closer, wanting to bring her lips down to his mouth. Annie wants to taste him like she does in her fantasies, but she hesitates again because this isn't one of her harmless daydreams. If she does this, lines are going to blur and dissolve. Then again, Annie was always one to color outside of the lines. . .

With her fingers threaded into his hair, Annie leans over his face, bringing her lips closer to his. Just as her lips skim over his, barely touching, the supply closet door opens.

"Annie, the van is here to take us to the h-hotel," Jai says, glancing at the pair of them before quickly averting his eyes and staring at the floor.

Annie's body snaps back into an upright position and her hand drops from Auggie's head. Her face has a distinct pulse from blushing so furiously in humiliation.

"We're almost done here," Auggie tells Jai as though nothing out of the ordinary is going on, as though he and Annie were just discussing where to go get lunch or some other mundane topic.

Jai doesn't respond as he closes the door, leaving Annie and Auggie alone again. The intensity of the moment between them has passed.

Auggie clears his throat. "So I'm guessing you were going to secure my hands and feet, leave me helpless and unable to move, and then go steal the intel from my laptop?"

She'd almost forgotten that he was pretending to be Berkin. Something tells her that Auggie forgot that pretense at some point too.

Annie helps him stand. "Yeah," she says. "Something like that."

"Good. I think you're ready. Now, let's get you suited up so we can leave."

Annie pauses over the wording of his sentence, then asks, "Wait, 'we'?"

But Auggie has already left her alone in the supply closet, the riding crop dangling limply from her hand.

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**A/N: Well? This started out as a one-shot, but I'm thinking it might need another chapter. What say you?**

**Reviews would be lovely. :)**


	2. Auggie's POV

**Hey everyone! This second chapter has been a long time coming. Sorry. I hope you enjoy what I've come up with and forgive me my absence from the the CA world as of late.**

**Thank you to everyone who left a review for the first part. It really encouraged me to keep this second part on my to-do list. If I didn't respond to you last time, apologies. This time, everyone gets an answer. :)**

**Also need to thank Phoenix, who keeps putting up with me an all my rough drafts.  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Covert Affairs or its characters.**

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Lessons: Part Two

"You could lighten up on the aftershave, you know."

"What?"

"It's just a little strong."

"Focus on the job, Auggie."

The techie grins at Jai's irritated tone. Taking jabs at his coworker helps Auggie take the edge off his unease about sending Annie into the arms of Seymour Berkin, their mark who enjoys some kink when it comes to his prostitutes.

"I'm approaching the room." Annie's voice comes into their headsets, a little muffled by the coat covering up her leather bustier.

"Go get 'em, tiger," Auggie says.

Jai snickers beside him, but Auggie ignores the sound. He could give a rat's ass what Jai thinks about his methods of encouragement. He's trying to coach Annie through her nerves. Even though she convinced him of her abilities in the DPD supply closet—_thoroughly_ convinced him—Auggie knows that the situation is different now. It isn't him in that hotel room. It's a chubby Russian diplomat with a comb-over and rotten teeth—or so Annie had described him as she suited up while reading through Berkin's file.

"When you get inside, locate Berkin's laptop," Auggie instructs. If he stays calm, there's a good chance Annie will too. "The faster you get your phone near the computer, the faster this will all be over."

"Right. Going in."

She knocks lightly and a few seconds later the door swings open. There's a soft rustle of fabric, and then the door clicks shut in beat with Annie's stiletto boots.

The atmosphere inside the van suddenly becomes much more serious. The time for jokes and banter is over and it's all about business. Auggie's fingers are poised over his keyboard, ready to hack.

"Change before you come into the bedroom," Berkin's voice rumbles in the background, the sound largely absorbed by Annie's woolen trench-coat. "I'll be waiting."

The wool scratches against the sensitive microphone as she removes the exterior layer. Auggie pictures her standing in the room in the leather bustier with black panties, sheer thigh-high hose with red garters, and black knee-high stiletto boots. The image distracts him until Annie's voice comes over the microphone again.

"The phone is in position. Make it quick," she whispers, then adds in a sultry voice, "Are you ready to play, pet?"

She must have gotten lucky—finding Berkin's laptop so quickly—but Auggie's not about to complain. It takes a moment for the signal to come up on his computer, but as soon as it does, Auggie begins to type codes and algorithms. He runs in to multiple firewalls and realizes this is going to take longer than he thought.

"Take it slow, Annie. I need a little time." He doesn't want her to panic.

"I've been a very bad boy," Berkin tells her.

Auggie's fingers fly over the keys.

"Then I'm going to have to punish you," Annie responds, still going strong. "On. The. Floor."

Annie's heels move toward her mark in three steady strides to punctuate her instructions. Berkin's heavy breathing comes through the microphone more clearly. He's practically panting. For once, Auggie thinks he may have done his job too well in putting together Annie's outfit.

"Tell me how naughty you've been. Tell me how much you need punished."

"I've been so bad. So, so very naughty."

"God, this sounds like a bad porno," Jai says.

"Wouldn't know. . ." Auggie responds, distracted by his work. "Don't really need them."

They hear the riding crop crack against Berkin's skin a few times and sit there listening to Berkin's whimpers of pleasure from experiencing pain while Auggie types as quickly as he can.

He feels sick to his stomach. There are so many firewalls. But there can't be _that_ many. No one is this paranoid. He's seen professional hackers with less electronic security.

"How much longer?" Jai asks, a nervous impatience in his tone. Annie and Berkin's initial conversation has dissolved into an incomprehensible guttural exchange, punctuated every few seconds by the sound of the leather on flesh.

"I'm almost there." He can feel it. They almost have the information. "Hold on, Annie."

"Enough!" Berkin suddenly exclaims. He must reach out for Annie, because another loud smack sounds in their headsets.

"Not until I give the word!" she reprimands. The uncertainty in her voice rings in Auggie's ears. The situation is getting out of her control and she's starting to lose her grip on the character. "I am in charge."

"I like it when they fight back too," Berkin sneers. His laborious breathing increases as he lumbers to a standing position. "You are so beautiful. A few bruises will make you perfect."

Auggie's fingers slam against the keys in time to the heartbeats pounding against his ribcage.

"You play by my rules, worm, or we don't play at all. That was the deal."

"I'm paying you. I'll do what I please. I say we switch roles now."

"Take him out, Annie," Jai orders, echoing Auggie's thoughts. Joan's instructions were to avoid exposing themselves as an intelligence hit, but there's little choice left now.

They hear a loud thunk—probably Annie roundhousing Berkin and leaving him in an unconscious heap. Auggie smiles slightly at the sound; he taught her that move too.

"Got it!" He breaks through the ninth and final firewall and begins downloading the information. He flexes his cramped fingers and says, "We're in, Annie."

"About time," she responds. "What am I doing with this creep? Bringing him in?"

A box pops up on Auggie's monitor. He quickly reads the message on his lighted Braille strip. "Oh no."

"What?" Jai questions.

Auggie doesn't respond to him. Instead, he speaks directly into his headset. "Annie, we have a slight problem. Berkin had an invisible security sensor. I triggered some sort of alarm."

Right on cue, Jai chimes in. "We've got two armed beefheads in the east stairwell. ETA: thirty seconds."

"Get out of there," Auggie translates.

She doesn't wait for any other orders. Annie's boots smack against the hardwood floors of the snazzy hotel. "Where's my exit?"

"Take a left at the next hallway. There are service stairs three doors down," Jai states.

It may not happen often, but Auggie is glad for his coworker's presence. Jai's eyes will lead Annie out of danger more quickly than his fingers could.

A thunderous burst of gunfire reminds him that Annie isn't out of danger yet though. They hear her racing down the stairs; the sound of her boots mingles with her pursuers' footfalls, reverberating off of the cement walls.

"I'm almost at the exit. Start the van!" she yells into their ears.

Jai hops into the driver's seat as Auggie palms for the backdoor handle of the surveillance van. He pops it open just as Annie dives forward. She plows right into him, knocking them both back and into the van cavity.

Auggie's wind might be gone, but Annie has enough lung power to shout, "Go!"

Another round of bullets accompanies her command, ricocheting off the still open backdoor of the van. Auggie grips the back of her leather bustier and flips Annie's body underneath his—using his own as a shield—just before another half dozen shots embed themselves in the swinging metal door.

Jai floors it. When he takes the first sharp right at the end of the street, the van door finally closes.

But the fun has only started.

"We've got a tail," Jai calls from the front. "Hold on!" He cranks the gas pedal a little more and speeds onto the D.C. streets leading to the highway.

Despite his desire to follow Jai's suggestion, there is nothing to hold onto in the back of the van. There is only the cold, slick metal floor and the hot, perspiring body beneath him.

Auggie is suddenly very aware of Annie's state of undress, the way she inhales and expels air through her mouth because the corset doesn't let her catch her breath after her quick getaway.

He can feel her skin radiating heat beneath him, can practically time the beating of her pulse. Her warm breath rasps near his ear as he hovers over her body, trying not to crush her and make it even harder for her to breathe.

With monitoring equipment on the left and a built-in bench on the right, there is only enough room in the bed of the van for one person. Auggie's shoulders collide painfully with the sides of the steel bench as Jai maneuvers through the D.C. streets.

Annie's hair is spread out all around her—it brushes against both of his hands, which are caged on either side of her head, his elbows resting right above her shoulders.

In his fantasies—in one of his _many_ fantasies, rather—this is how he pictures them together. The primal urge to bury his hands in her hair, to bury his tongue in her mouth, to bury himself inside her, is almost too much.

Jai hits a pothole and their bodies jump with the jolt. Annie is pressed flush against him and he hears her gasp of surprise as she feels his body's reaction pressing hard against her stomach.

Some things just can't be helped.

He is only human—a hot-blooded, living, breathing male one at that. Not to mention, he's a man who fully appreciates the curves of the female form, especially the form beneath him. Even though he knows her measurements from being her handler, he's never had the pleasure of feeling those curves full-on before now. He's only gotten hints—a hug, a hand brushing against the side of her breast as he takes her proffered arm, a nudge of her hip.

Having Annie pinned underneath him, scantily clad, their bodies rubbing against each other in a high speed chase. . .well, even if he was thinking clearly enough to control his body's reaction, it wouldn't do any good. He's penned up his attraction to her for too long.

"Annie. . ." he starts, thinking of an explanation he doesn't possess.

"Kiss me," she half pants, half whispers, still unable to catch her breath. Her hands snake between their bodies and up around his neck. "Now."

Maybe the adrenaline is clouding her judgment too and making her blood rush.

He doesn't need any other encouragement. Auggie's head dips and Annie's lips crash against his, meeting him halfway. Her hands pull him in closer and she opens her mouth, letting his tongue fully explore her. The kiss is rough and banal. Fierce. Consuming.

Auggie's hands want to roam, to feel every inch of her that he can reach, but he's still bracing himself against the velocity of the car. Annie's hands are a different story. They slip beneath his T-shirt, running up his chest and around his back, fingernails digging into his flesh as she tries to hold him steady and bring him closer at the same time.

This is the Annie he discovered in the DPD supply closet, the passionate vixen that knows what she wants and takes it. He's more than willing to give it to her.

But as the van starts to slow down, the flame between them begins to cool. She pulls away from him—releasing his lips and his body. Now neither of them is breathing evenly.

"I think we've lost them," Jai says. Auggie wonders if he knows what's just happened in the back of the van, but he's glad that one of them was focused on getting the team out of this alive.

Somehow Annie and Auggie pull themselves upright and perch themselves on the metal bench, sitting shoulder to shoulder. His lips are swollen from her kisses.

The van eventually stops inside the DPD parking garage. Jai opens the backdoor and a blast of cold air hits them. Auggie feels Annie shiver beside him, removes his cardigan, and slips it over her shoulders as they exit the van.

"Thanks," she says, finally regaining her composure.

"Annie, what. . .?" He doesn't know what to say about their hot exchange. He doesn't know what this means for them.

Her lips press lightly against his cheek, which dispels some of his worry that the impromptu make-out session will cause problems with their relationship.

"Later," she whispers. "First we have to ditch the voyeur."

"Jai?" he asks, slightly confused. But who else could she mean?

"We lost that tail after the first three turns," she says, a smile in her voice. "_Someone_ was enjoying himself. I'm not into public performances."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Jai's voice is unconvincing. He even sounds a little smug.

"Wil-cox!" Auggie exclaims.

The other man laughs and dodges Auggie's attempted sucker punch. "I wasn't about to interrupt again," he explains. "Though, in the future, could you try and restrain yourselves a little?"

"Jealous?" Annie teases. Auggie grasps her elbow as they begin walking toward the garage elevators.

"Hardly." Annie and Auggie share a laugh over that lie. "How about, as a token of apology, drinks are on me after debrief?" Jai offers.

Annie's hand pats the middle of Auggie's chest. "I think we've got other plans tonight. Raincheck?"

"Other plans?" Auggie asks, though he thinks he likes where this is going.

"We've still got that bag of extra 'tech' in the van," she hints in a voice that makes his chest tighten with anticipation.

"Yeah," he says to Jai, "we'll need a raincheck."

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**A/N: Reviews would be lovely. This weekend has been beyond crappy and a few words would cheer me up like no bar of chocolate ever could. :)  
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